Harry's First Christmas Present
by Healer Pomfrey
Summary: Just a little Christmas story. Completely AU, set before Hogwarts.


**Harry's First Christmas Present**  
**by Healer Pomfrey**

_All recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling, and I am not earning anything by writing this story.  
I am not a native speaker of English. Please excuse my mistakes._

* * *

_In the streets of London, 15 December_

Six-year-old Harry Potter trailed behind his aunt and cousin along the streets of London. It was ten days before Christmas, and the houses along the road were decorated beautifully. Unfortunately, it had snowed overnight, and Harry kept slipping and stumbling in his for the current weather inadequate shoes.

"I will get lots of presents for Christmas, and Harry will get none, because he's a fre-e-eak," Dudley was singing, happily, making Harry feel even more miserable than he already felt in his much too thin clothes.

Distracted by Dudley's words, Harry did not pay attention to the road in front of him and once again stumbled, all the bags that he was carrying for his aunt and cousin falling into the snow.

"Be careful boy," Aunt Petunia shouted, causing him to apologize profusely.

"Don't break the presents freak," Dudley shouted, glaring at his smaller cousin.

All of a sudden, when Harry was still trying to get back onto his feet, a man and a woman leaned down to him and gently helped him up and handed him the bags.

"Be careful little one that you don't hurt yourself," the woman said in a gentle voice.

"Thank you Madame," Harry replied, gratefully, absentmindedly noticing that the couple was dressed in strange clothes.

_On the street in Little Whinging, 22 December_

It was a few days later, on the last day of school before the winter holidays, that Father Christmas stepped into Harry's way on his way back home from school.

"Father Christmas?" Harry spoke up in a small voice, backing up in fright.

Father Christmas replied affirmatively, before he held out a present, wrapped in dark blue paper with twinkling little stars on it. "Don't forget to open it on Christmas morning," he instructed him. "It's important."

"Is that really for me?" Harry asked in excitement, causing Father Christmas to nod again. "But why?" Harry queried in confusion. "I never receive presents from you, because I'm not a good boy but a good for nothing freak and a burden."

To his confusion, Father Christmas merely shook his head and vanished from the spot.

_'How strange,'_ Harry mused as he slowly trailed home. _'I better hide this from Dudley and Aunt Petunia, or they'll take it away,'_ he thought, carefully sliding his treasure into the pocket of his jeans jacket. For the first time since he could remember, he felt that he was looking forward to Christmas morning. _'I have a present, I have a present,'_ he thought, happily, while he traipsed through the snow.

HP

Unfortunately, when Dudley opened him the entrance door, he noticed immediately that Harry was hiding something in his pocket.

"What do you have there?" he shouted, forcefully pulling the small parcel out of his cousin's pocket. "Mum, the freak has a present," he then called out to his mother. "He can't have it. Freaks aren't allowed presents, so it's mine, right?" he asked in a whiny voice, holding out the parcel for his mother.

"Of course sweetie," Petunia confirmed, glaring at the unwanted child that chose that moment to let out a series of sneezes. "Go into your cupboard you little freak," she hissed, pulling her son with her into the warm kitchen.

The smell of freshly baked biscuits penetrated Harry's nose, as he settled down in his small cupboard that was void of any light let alone Christmas decoration.

During the following two days, while Harry was busy in the kitchen cooking Christmas meals for the Dursleys, the thought of the first and only present that Father Christmas had brought him did not leave his mind.

_In a small cupboard, 24 December_

When he finally finished cooking late on Christmas Eve, he was locked into his cupboard, where he remained deep in thoughts. _'Father Christmas brought me a present, so that means I was a good boy this year. It's only because Dudley took it from me that I don't have it anymore. Thank you Father Christmas for bringing me a present,'_ he thought, suddenly feeling much happier. _'I'm not bad, Dudley is,'_ he thought, as he slowly drifted off to sleep, rolled up to as close to a ball as he could in a faint attempt to get warm in his small cupboard.

_Dursleys' residence, 25 December_

When Harry woke up in the morning, he heard the Dursleys make their final Christmas preparations and listened in annoyance how Dudley began to cheer in delight, probably at the sight of a mountain of presents. _'And I'm going to be locked in here all day,'_ he thought. _'Oh well, at least I don't have to do any chores today.'_ With that he turned around on his small mattress and drifted back to sleep.

He was brought back to reality, when his aunt and uncle suddenly began to scream in obvious horror. Mere instants later, the door to his cupboard was flung open, and his uncle pulled him out of his solace by the ear.

"Boy, what was the parcel you gave Dudley?" he roared. "Where did you get it?"

"Father Christmas gave it to me," Harry replied, anxiously looking from his uncle to his aunt. "What happened?" he mouthed, knowing better than to ask aloud.

"That wasn't Father Christmas," Petunia replied in a sharp voice. "You know that you're not a good boy and don't receive presents from Father Christmas. It must have been from freaks like you, and Dudley vanished together with the parcel as soon as he opened it."

Vernon waved his fist at the terrified child. "If Dudley doesn't return unharmed, I'm going to see to it that you'll regret having been born in the first place." With that he shoved Harry back into the cupboard and slammed the door closed.

_At an unknown place, 25 December_

Dudley was horrified when he was all of a sudden whisked away from his parents' living room. He felt a strange pull behind his navel, when the world began to turn around and everything in front of his eyes became black.

When he felt the movement stop, he looked around, horrified, finding himself in what seemed to be the ruin of a large, old building. He almost sighed in relief upon noticing that he seemed to not be alone, when his view fell on the strange clothes that the people around him were wearing. Completely shocked, he realised that he could see a group of children at the other end of the ruin flying around on broomsticks. _'That's not possible; I must be seeing things,'_ he thought, frightened.

"Harry Potter?" a young man addressed him in apparent surprise, causing him to shake his head, horrified.

"I'm not Harry. I'm Dudley Dursley," he replied, firmly.

"Did you give the Portkey to the wrong child?" one of the women asked the man in a crisp voice.

"No I'm certain that I gave it to Harry Potter and not to this boy here," the man, who was wearing a strange kind of a black one-piece replied in a grumpy voice, sounding impatiently. "Why did you have the gift and not Harry? I assume that you're his cousin?" he asked the boy.

Dudley put up a sneer in spite of still feeling very afraid of the unknown people. "Because he's a freak and not allowed to have presents," he informed the strangers. "Who are you and how dare you kidnap me?" he then shouted, remembering how his daddy would deal with such strange people.

_'They must be freaks like Harry,'_ he thought in annoyance.

"If you hadn't stolen your cousin's present, this would never had happened," an older woman threw in, sounding very angry. "Let's go and take the boy back home and fetch the right one."

"The freak won't be allowed to go anywhere," Dudley replied, boldly. "He remains locked into his cupboard over Christmas, so that Father Christmas won't see a freak like him."

One of the women pulled a strange stick out of the pocket of her one-piece and with a wave of the stick conjured another gift that looked exactly like the other. Holding it out to Dudley, she pointed the stick at him. "You'll hand your cousin this gift and tell him to open it if you don't want me to transfigure you into a pig," she said, icily.

Before he could even ponder the meaning of the threat, the man who had spoken first grabbed his arm, and once again he felt the world turn around in front of his eyes. When his vision returned back to normal, he found himself in front of number 4, Privet Drive. The man was nowhere to be seen.

_'Will they know if I give the freak his present?'_ he wondered; however, too scared of the freaks, he unobtrusively entered the small cupboard under the stairs as soon as his protective and worried parents let go of him after an hour of fussing and questioning.

_In the cupboard under the stairs, 25 December_

_'Maybe Father Christmas gave me a present that was supposed to take me away from the Dursleys?'_ Harry thought, recalling how often he had wished for someone to come for him, who'd be able and willing to like and love him. _'I don't think so though. No one seems to like me,'_ he thought, sadly. _'Maybe it was supposed to take me to heaven, so I could be together with my mum and dad. If Dudley won't return soon, Uncle Vernon is going to kill me, and then I'll be with my mum and dad.' _Not feeling overly well due to the cold that had been bothering him for a week now, he decided to just go back and sleep.

_At Longbottom Manor, 25 December_

"I'm sorry, I didn't even think of the possibility that anyone would take the gift from Harry," Xenophilus Lovegood spoke up, apologetically.

"You couldn't know," Augusta Longbottom said, gently. "That boy was horrible."

"I'm almost glad that my youngest children didn't meet him," Molly Weasley agreed with her friends. "I just hope he'll give the new present to Harry though."

"If not, I'm going to pay the Dursleys a visit in my Animagus form," Amelia Bones threw in, smirking. "Thank Merlin that Susan is outside with the others. She's never met such a jerk so far either."

"Oh well, let's have some more tea while we wait for Harry," Augusta Longbottom said, decisively, ushering the others back to the table, where they had enjoyed breakfast earlier.

_In the small cupboard, 25 December_

Harry was brought back to reality, when the door to his cupboard was opened and Dudley stuck his head inside. He tossed a present at him and whispered, "It was for you, freak. Open it." Before Harry realised what he had said, his cousin had already left and locked the cupboard again from the outside.

He eyed the present with mixed feelings. On the one hand, he badly wanted to open it, considering that it was the first present, which he had ever received from Father Christmas. However, on the other hand, something had to be wrong with it. _'Otherwise Dudley wouldn't have returned it to me,'_ he thought, frightened.

After pondering the matter for a few minutes, he hesitantly began to peel off the wrapping paper, thinking, _'Nothing can become worse than it's now.'_

A mere instant later, he almost regretted his decision, when he felt a strange pull behind his navel and his small cupboard vanished from the sight.

_At Longbottom Manor, 25 December_

Harry felt himself stumbling to the floor, just when the movement stopped and his vision returned. However, he was not in his cupboard anymore. He quickly scrambled onto his feet. _'Where am I?'_ he wondered, curiously looking around. He found himself in the largest and most beautiful room that he had ever seen. However, before he could further let his eyes wander around his surroundings, soft voices penetrated his ears.

"Hello Harry," multiple voices spoke simultaneously. He anxiously eyed the group of people, who had been sitting around a huge table and were now coming over to him. _'Who are they, and where am I?'_ he wondered, trying to keep himself from panicking.

"Hello," he replied in a small voice, shyly averting his eyes to the floor.

"Good morning sweetie," the oldest of the women that approached him said gently. "You probably won't know us, but we've all been friends with your parents and knew you well when you were a baby."

Harry could just stare at the woman in amazement, noticing that she was wearing strange clothes like the people whom he had met in London a few days ago. Somehow, he felt strangely comforted by their clothing. _'It feels familiar,'_ he thought, although he could not understand why.

"Harry, the Lovegoods..." the old lady continued to speak, pointing to a young couple, "... have observed that you were neglected and abused by your family, which is the reason why we decided to invite you here for Christmas in spite of Professor Dumbledore's explicit orders to not contact you at the Dursleys."

Following her gaze, Harry suddenly recognised the couple, whom he had met in London during the previous week. Before he could wonder who Professor Dumbledore was, the old lady introduced herself as Augusta Longbottom and the other people as Mrs. and Mr. Weasley, Mrs. and Mr. Diggory, Mrs. Bones, and Mrs. and Mr. Greengrass.

"Maybe it would be more interesting for Harry to get to know the children," a plump woman with bright red hair threw in, giving Harry a questioning look. "They're all outside playing Quidditch."

_'What's Quidditch?'_ Harry wondered but knew better to ask. Through the large window that occupied one complete side of the enormous room, he could see almost a dozen children who seemed about his own age flying on broomsticks. _'They fly on broomsticks?'_ he thought, incredulously. He gave the nice woman an enthusiastic nod and hurried to follow her out onto the grounds.

When they reached the door, the woman stopped walking and said, "Oh dear, you need warm robes. I'll just make some for you." To Harry's surprise, she pulled a strange stick along with a tissue out of the pockets of her strange one-piece and pointed the stick at the tissue. An instant later, she held a black fabric in her hand, which she gave to Harry.

Seeing that the lady apparently expected him to wear the robes that she had just made, Harry hesitantly pulled them over his worn out sweat-shirt, fingering the fine, warm cloth in amazement. "Thank you so very much," he said in a small voice, returning the smile that the lady gave him.

_'These people must be freaks like myself,'_ he suddenly realised, feeling happier than he could remember having felt ever before.

HP

"Children, come down for a moment," the red haired lady shouted. "Harry's here."

Harry observed with a combination of disbelief and amazement how the group of children guided their broomsticks downwards and safely landed on the ground. Soon he was surrounded by the children, who - to his utmost surprise - greeted him with apparent enthusiasm. _'How strange,'_ Harry thought. _'I've never met any of them before. How come that they know me?'_

"Now now give Harry some space to breathe and introduce yourselves," one slightly older boy instructed the others, who obediently began to tell Harry their names.

He learned soon that the red haired boys all belonged to one family together with the red headed girl and the nice lady who had brought him outside.

The last boy to introduce himself said, "I'm Neville Longbottom. I live here together with my Granny. You probably have met her inside. She's very strict." With that he pressed his broom into Harry's hands and explained, "I don't like flying. Please fly for me. You only have to catch the Snitch."

Harry looked from the boy to the broom in his hands, causing everyone else to laugh at his obviously puzzled expression.

"Harry, have you never flown before?" a girl with blue eyes and a dreamy look asked in a gentle voice. "Don't worry, just sit on your broom and you'll fly automatically. "You'll like the Snitch. It's a lovely small ball with golden wings." She mounted her own broom and slowly took off the ground, motioning him to follow her.

Like driven by an invisible force, Harry sat on the broom and took into the air, following the bright girl's every move. _'I'm flying,'_ he thought, incredulously. _'It's like magic.'_

Suddenly, from the grounds he heard the older lady ask in what seemed to be a concerned voice, "Molly, do you believe it wise to let the boy fly? He probably has never flown before."

One of the other women replied, "But his magic seems to be very strong, and look how he flies. He seems to be a natural flyer just like his father was."

_'Magic?'_ Harry thought, alerted. The sentence that his relatives had knocked into his head so firmly _'There's no such thing as magic'_ came to the front of his mind, and he almost lost the grip on his broom in shock, when he spotted the beautiful little ball with golden wings hover right in front of him. _'How pretty'_ he thought as he quickly closed his hands around the struggling ball. _'Now what am I supposed to do with it?'_ he wondered and flew over to the red haired twins who were flying not far away.

"Game over..."

"... Harry caught the Snitch..."

"... We won!" they immediately began to shout in turns, making Harry chuckle at their antics.

"Descend to the ground," one of the twins instructed him, and together with the red heads, Harry carefully landed on the ground.

"That was very well done Harry," a slightly taller boy with light brown hair commended him, holding out his hand for the Snitch. "I've been looking for the Snitch for hours already."

"Yes Cedric..."

"... Harry's going to be our team's Seeker from now on," the twins cheered in a funny singsong that made Harry smile.

The children were just about to take into the air again, when the older lady held them back. "Let's have lunch first. Then we'll open presents, and afterwards you may fly again."

_'She must be Neville's grandmother,'_ Harry thought, _'and this place must be their home. What a huge, nice place to live.'_

"Come Harry," Neville said and pulled him with him inside. Together with the other children, they went to wash their hands, before Neville led him to a beautifully decorated table next to a large Christmas tree, where he sat down and motioned Harry to take the seat next to him.

Harry hesitantly hovered behind the chair, knowing all too well that he wasn't allowed to sit at a table together with good people.

"What's wrong sweetie? Sit down next to Neville," his granny said, sounding surprised to see the empty seat.

"I'm not allowed to sit at a table," Harry informed her in a barely audible voice, shyly averting his eyes to view the carpet.

"Harry, of course you're allowed to sit at the table with everyone else," the old lady replied, before she unobtrusively waved her wand to transfigure the boy's rags into more adequate clothes.

"Thank you," Harry mouthed and obediently took the seat between Neville and one of the twins.

HP

Lunch was an interesting affair. The food automatically appeared on the table as soon as Neville's grandmother had taken her seat. Harry had never seen so much food and so many different kinds of delicacies ever before. Molly Weasley - the twins had told him this was their mother's name - was sitting opposite of him.

"In order to keep an eye on us..."

"... and to prevent us from doing mischief," the twins informed him in their singsong, which he found so funny.

Molly Weasley apparently noticed that he was hesitant to take food onto his plate and quickly placed a little of everything onto his plate and instructed him to eat. Only too gladly Harry followed her instruction, noticing in delight how delicious the meal was. Unfortunately, he felt completely full after just a few bites, especially since he still did not feel overly well. However, for Harry, the highlight of the meal came with the desert, when everyone who took a few bites of the lemon meringue turned into overgrown ducks.

_'This was the twins,'_ he realised from the adults' sounds and mimics, _'but how did they do that?'_ he wondered. It only lasted a few minutes, before everyone automatically returned to their human forms. "This was great fun," he whispered to Neville, who agreed, chuckling.

HP

As soon as lunch was finished, all children except for Harry rushed over to the huge Christmas tree, trying to crawl under the tree at once. _'What are they doing?'_ Harry wondered, questioningly looking around.

"Come Harry, we're going to look for presents," the girl with red hair, of whom Harry had understood that she was the twins' sister, said to him and returned to the table to pull him towards the tree.

"I don't get presents," Harry mumbled, barely audibly.

However, it had been loud enough for Luna's mother, who was standing right next to the tree, to hear.

"And why might that be sweetie?" she asked in a soft voice.

"Because I'm not a good boy and a freak. The present that brought me here was the only present I ever received," Harry admitted in a small voice.

Mrs. Lovegood smiled at him, efficiently hiding her anger at the boy's Muggle relatives. "Let's see Harry," she said. "By chance I know that I've seen at least one gift with your name on it."

Harry stared with a combination of disbelief and amazement at a steadily growing mountain of gifts in front of himself. The few children, who had finally managed to crawl under the tree, pulled out presents, and others distributed them to their respective owners. Finally, all children sat in a circle and began to tear off wrapping papers.

"Harry, go on, open them," Neville encouraged him.

Driven by the other children's enthusiasm, Harry followed their example and began to open his presents, even if more carefully than most of the others. To his surprise, he found several new clothes in different colours as well as interesting looking books. _'Easy Magic for Little Wizards'_, _'The Tales of Beedle the Bard'_, _'Hogwarts: A History for Children'_, _'Children's First Potions Book'_ and _'Four Little Wizards and The Baby Dragon'_.

_'Magic?'_ Harry wondered. _'Wizards? Maybe I am a wizard.'_

"Harry, can you read already?" Mrs. Lovegood asked in a small voice, causing Harry to smile at the kind lady.

"Yes," he whispered back. _'I learned to read when I managed to get the old garden magazine out of the garbage,'_ he thought but knew better than to voice his thoughts.

"Harry, are you feeling all right?" the gentle lady enquired, when he couldn't prevent himself from letting out a series of harsh coughs.

"I'm fine," he replied, automatically, giving Mrs. Lovegood a horrified look. He knew better than to not hide any kind of ailment.

However, before he knew what happened, a cold, slender hand found its way to his forehead. "I don't think so," Mrs. Lovegood said, giving him a sharp look. "You seem to have caught a cold. Come with me. I'll give you something for it."

Absolutely terrified, Harry followed the young woman out of the room, where the other children were still busying themselves with their new books and toys. Mrs. Lovegood led him into a beautiful bedroom, where she made him sit down on the bed and pulled a phial out of a bag that was standing on the floor.

"Drink up," she instructed him. "It's Pepperup potion. I brewed it myself last night before coming here."

"I'm not allowed medicine," Harry thought, unaware of the fact that he had voiced what the Dursleys had taught him often enough to remember.

"Nonsense. Of course you're allowed medicine," Mrs. Lovegood corrected him in a soft voice. She handed him the phial and observed how he obediently sipped the potion without commenting on the taste. "That better?" she asked, gently.

Harry looked up in surprise. "Much better," he said, "thank you so much. I didn't know that medicine could make one so much better."

"Well," Mrs. Lovegood replied, smiling, "this is magic. It's not Muggle medicine but potions. Potions are much more efficient than Muggle medicine."

"Excuse me Madame," Harry spoke up, hesitantly, "what is Muggle?"

"Muggle means non magical," Mrs. Lovegood explained, gently, before she queried, "Harry, I believe that your relatives don't treat you very well, is that correct?"

Harry let out a long sigh. He knew better than to complain. However, the lady in front of him was so nice and she made him so much better that he slowly admitted, "They hate me because I'm a freak and a burden."

"You're not a freak," Luna's mother contradicted vehemently. "You're a wizard, Harry, and probably quite powerful at that. Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, which you're all going to attend once you turn eleven, placed you with your relatives and forbade everyone to even contact you. You must know that any of us would have taken you in when your parents did, but unfortunately Professor Dumbledore is a very influential wizard and no one easily dares going against him. "

Seeing that Harry seemed to be listening with interest, she continued, "When we saw you in London last week and heard how your aunt and cousin treated you, we decided to gather our friends here and invite you for Christmas, even if it's against Professor Dumbledore's wishes." She gave him a sharp look, before she enquired, "Now do you feel well enough to join the others and play with them?"

"Yes," Harry replied, smiling, although his thoughts went haywire due to the information he had just received.

HP

During the following few hours, Harry forgot everything that he had heard and busily played with the other children. To his relief, everyone was very nice to him and no one bullied him like his cousin used to do. _'They're all so nice, I wished I could stay with them and not return to the Dursleys,' _he thought, as they all sat down for dinner. Christmas dinner was especially delicious, and Harry enjoyed himself greatly, apart from the question that kept popping up in his mind, _'When will I have to go back to my relatives?'_

It was only when dinner was over and Molly Weasley announced that it was bed time for everyone who wasn't at Hogwarts already that Neville's granny turned to Harry and asked, "Harry, do you think your relatives will miss you if you stay here overnight?"

"No," Harry replied in a small voice, feeling very conscious as he felt everyone's gaze on him. "They'd only be happy that I'm not there, if they realised that I'm not in my cupboard at all," he admitted, looking at the kind, old lady with a hopeful expression.

"Very well then you're going to stay overnight," Augusta Longbottom decided. "If you don't mind, you can share the room with Neville and Ron."

"Thank you so much," Harry replied, happily, and followed the two boys, who had already played with him a lot during the afternoon, into their room.

Harry had not noticed the old lady whisper with Mrs. Lovegood and Mrs. Weasley; however, he looked up in surprise, when the three witches entered the room. While Neville's granny tucked in Neville and Mrs. Weasley Ron, Mrs. Lovegood came over to him. She pointed her wand at him and transfigured his clothes into comfortable pyjamas, before she motioned him to lie down and gently tucked him in.

"I don't think you're really well yet," she said, giving him a thoughtful look.

"I don't believe so either," Molly Weasley threw in, coming over from the other side of the room. "He still has a bad cough."

"Harry, I'm going to cast a diagnostic spell on you," Mrs. Lovegood said, pulling her wand.

"Okay," Harry agreed in spite of feeling very scared to find himself at wand point.

An instant later, Mrs. Lovegood let her wand sink. "They've neglected his cold so much that it's on the verge of turning into pneumonia. I'm going to floo home and brew a potion for him. Pepperup isn't enough." To Harry she said, "Go to sleep sweetie. I'll be back in about two hours and then I'll give you a potion to get rid of your cold completely."

_'She's going to brew a potion just for me,'_ Harry thought in amazement , as he drifted off to sleep after an exciting day with his first friends and first Christmas presents since he could remember.

HP

"We can't send him back to these atrocious Muggles," Mrs. Lovegood said in a firm voice, when she returned to Longbottom Manor two hours ago. All the children had retired to their rooms by now, and only the adults were left in the sitting room.

"I fully agree," Molly Weasley agreed immediately.

"Molly, you can't simply act against Albus' wishes," her husband threw in, sighing.

Augusta Longbottom let out a long sigh. "The poor boy was abused and neglected by his relatives. I too believe that we should take him away from them."

"Does Albus even have to know?" Xenophilius Lovegood queried, glancing around.

"I don't think he has to know, at least not before the boy enters Hogwarts," Mr. Diggory said, thoughtfully. "I could speak with the goblins and ask them to change his guardians in the Muggle as well as in the magical world without alerting Dumbledore. I know two goblins who owe me a favour and will surely do this for us."

"And I'm going to pay the Dursleys a visit," Molly Weasley spoke up in determination.

"No Molly, you will not," her husband threw in in determination.

"Let me go Molly," Amelia Bones said, smirking.

During the course of the evening, the adults decided that Augusta Longbottom should become Harry's new gardian and that Mrs. Lovegood and Mrs. Bones would be made his godmothers. They also arranged that the other children would all remain at Longbottom Manor during daytime, where Mrs. Longbottom, Mrs. Lovegood and Mrs. Weasley were going to take turns teaching the children until they were old enough to enter Hogwarts.

_At Longbottom Manor, 26 December_

In the morning, Harry woke up, when Ginny Weasley dashed into the room and excitedly informed her friends about the adults' decisions. Harry realised immediately that he felt better than he could remember having felt ever before, and when he fully comprehended the news that Ginny had just relayed, he was also happier than ever before.

_'That was my first ever Christmas present and it fulfilled my greatest wish,'_ he thought, _'to live with people who like me and don't despise me because of being different.'_ He smiled at his new guardian and godmothers, who had followed the little girl into the room and said, "Thank you so much. You've made me the happiest boy in the world. This is the best Christmas present ever."

**The End**

_Thank you so much for your kind feedback on Facebook, where I posted a sneak preview!_


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